Red

When the white Kutch grows red,

And the Gulf gives place to red waters,

When the red-eyed vultures hover in skies,

Over the rotten red and the dead.

When Gandhi’s land witnesses violence

And the red Godhra aches in silence,

When Kandla sinks in shame

And when white veins shed red,

It’s nothing but a power game.

When the country suffers a violent blow,

And when painful cries in Sabarmati flow.

When death does every citizen dread,

You see no colour but red — only red.

— Vasu Kumar, Class XI,
D.A.V. College, Nakodar

Time goes fast.

Time goes slow.

Look at your watch

What is the time?

Is it one o’clock?

Two o’clock or three?

When you are watching T.V.,

Time goes fast.

When you are reading a book,

Time goes slow.

When you are having fun,

Time goes fast.

When you have nothing to do,

Time goes slow.

Time goes fast,

Time goes slow.

— Sonia Sidhu, Form 3 (Std 10),
Legal Academy, Botswana

Sometimes I feel lonely,

And think that it is only I that understands ME.

The pain of being alone I bear,

With none to listen or to care,

Outside I laugh...,

Within I cry... .

When I was a little girl,

Things were fined and fair,

But the pinch of loneliness was still there.

Money is not the only need of a child,

And neglect would surely make him wild.

Inside me I hear screams,

Shall I ever be able to realise my dreams?

— Hitanshu Sharma, Class X-A,
Shimla Public School, Shimla